Chapter IV: Part 4

"Why," he began, "I'm tired of this constant changing from one place to another; and as I've not had to disappear now for some time, I've come to the conclusion that the fairies have overlooked the misdeeds of my ancestors and are going to give me a rest. I've taken a house in the highly respectable neighbourhood of Russell Square, and I've furnished it by means of my fairy powers with everything that is necessary; besides this, I've realised the full value of all my precious stones, except, of course, that which the dear Princess gave me, and have opened a banking account. There!" and the little fellow sat back, evidently feeling quite exhausted by his long speech and vainly searching for his little fan, which, of course, was not there.

I scarcely knew what to say to this surprising statement, and waited for further developments before replying. "I've engaged a housekeeper to look after me, and two servants also; and--as you see--have discarded my Oriental costume for one more suitable to this country and climate; I sent you my old costume and turban by a trustworthy messenger this morning, having changed at my tailor's into the attire in which you see me. I hope it has arrived safely?"

I assured him that it had, and sent for the portmanteau in order that he might see for himself.

"That's all right, then," he said with a sigh of relief; "and now I want to hand you this blank cheque which I have signed, and, in case I disappear, I want you to draw out the whole amount standing to my account at the bank at the time, so that I may be able to get it in case I appear again. I have an idea that I shall not have to undergo these changes many more times. Of course, if I never come back, the money will be yours, as I have no one else to leave it to."

I thanked him very heartily for the trust he reposed in me, and assured him that his wishes should be carried out to the letter.

"That's all right, then!" he exclaimed in a tone of satisfaction; "and now I want to arrange for a nice little party at my new home to act as a kind of--er--home warming--I think you call it. Ask the children and any of your friends who know me, and, if you let me know beforehand how many are coming, I will arrange for what, I hope, will turn out to be a very enjoyable evening."

We fixed the date, and after my little friend had gone, I wrote informally, as Shin Shira wished, to as many of my friends as would be likely to wish to come, to ask them to attend.

Nearly everybody accepted--for the little fellow was a great favourite with everybody who knew him--and, as Shin Shira looked in every day to know how the replies were coming in, I was able to tell him in a few days that we might expect from twenty to twenty-five guests.

From then till the date fixed Shin Shira was very busy, and I only saw him once or twice, and on the eventful day I did not see him at all.

The Verrinder children were coming in the carriage with me, and, according to arrangement, we were the first to arrive.

There was an awning at the door and a red carpet laid down the steps and across the pavement; the house was brilliantly lighted, and evidently grand preparations had been going on.

I hurried up the steps, followed by Marjorie, Dick and Fidge.

The servant who stood at the open door, and who knew me by sight, was looking very anxious, and whispered, "The housekeeper would like to speak to you at once in the dining-room, sir."

"Anything the matter?" I asked.

"Yes, sir, the master--he--he can't be found," said the man.

I hurried down to the dining-room, and found the housekeeper in her best black silk dress, looking even more distressed than the manservant had been.

"The master, sir," she began at once when I entered the room. "Whatever _is_ to be done? He can't be found anywhere--and the guests beginning to arrive--"

"Never mind," said I, after thinking a moment. "I've no doubt he'll be here presently--and, in the meantime, as I know most if not all of the guests, I'll receive them, and explain that he has probably been called away and will no doubt be back presently."

I hurried up into the drawing-room, and found that by this time several guests had arrived, and were looking greatly surprised at finding no host to receive them.

I apologised for my friend as well as I was able, and pointed out that probably he would soon return, and, in the meantime, he would doubtless wish us to make ourselves at home.

We found everything arranged for our comfort. Professional singers gave an excellent concert in the drawing-room--an excellent supper was served downstairs.

The children were not forgotten, and, while the concert had been proceeding in the drawing-room, an amusing entertainment was provided for them in another room. Beside each plate at supper, also, there was a little present, chosen carefully, and our names written distinctly on each.

Everything was thoroughly well thought out and provided for--but--there was no host to receive our thanks and to bid us "good-bye" when we went.

The whole affair, therefore, though I naturally did my best for my friend's sake to "keep things going," concluded rather flatly, and I went home after it was all over feeling not a little depressed and anxious.

I called the next day, and the day after, but Shin Shira had not returned, nor had anything been heard of, or from him.

It was most mysterious, and I could only account for it by the fact that the fairies may have, in fact _must_ have, caused him to disappear once more.

The housekeeper told me, on my inquiring of her, that he had been at home the whole of the day on which the party had been held, superintending all the arrangements, and had gone up early to his room to dress, and from that time all trace of him had been lost.

I was very sorry, and the more so as days and weeks flew by and nothing happened to give us any clue as to his whereabouts.

After a couple of months, I told the servants that they had better seek other situations, and when they had done so I let them go. I closed the house, and waited for events.

It must have been quite a year later when I received the following letter--

"_Isle of San Sosta_,
"_ South Pacific._

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

"I write once more to let you know that I am again in great trouble,
but this time there is nothing in which you can help me, though I
know, in the goodness of your heart, you would wish to do so if it
were possible.

"When, in accordance with the fairies' decree, to which I must
always most humbly bow, I was called upon to disappear at the very
moment when I was hoping to welcome my guests to my newly
established home, I found myself most unexpectedly in this place.

"It is an island very little known, and far out of the beaten track
of vessels.

"Once a year, however, a trader calls, bringing and taking letters
and exchanging for the produce of this place such necessities as we
require from more civilised lands.

"The people of this country are very simple and of primitive habits,
so much so that it is the custom here if a maiden remains unmarried
after a certain age, and becomes a burden to her parents, to turn
her out of the community, and leave her to seek food for herself or
starve in the desert.

"This cruel and unnatural law I have constantly tried to get
altered, and the King and his advisers consent to do so only on one
condition, and that is, that I find a husband for the only unmarried
daughter of the King, who is at present an outcast in the
wilderness, being of most uncomely appearance and greatly deformed.

"I have been out into the wilderness to see the poor creature
myself. She is indeed in a pitiful plight, being far from fair to
look upon, and gaunt and thin with exposure and suffering.

"I conversed with her and found her intelligent, and patient
under her great afflictions; in fact, her sad case so touched my
heart that, not only for her sake, but for the sake of the other
unfortunate maidens who, unless this cruel law is altered, may
have to suffer a fate similar to hers, I have decided to marry
her myself, and thus rescue her and others who may follow her.

"I think of my sweet Princess and feel that she would approve--for
never shall I see her dear face again--and in making this marriage
she would know I was inclined to it from pity and not from any
untruthfulness to her most dear memory.

"The stone she gave me I cannot bear to see any more, and this I
ask you to keep _until I claim it again_; all my other goods and
the money in the bank I leave to you absolutely.

"I feel that I may never see you again, and if this be so, accept
my hearty and devoted thanks for all you have done for me. Think
of me sometimes and

"Believe me to be,
"Your friend always,
"SHIN SHIRA SCARAMANGA MANOUSA YAMA HAWA."

I sat a long while after I had read this letter, thinking of all the strange happenings since I had known my little friend.

I had grown quite to love and respect him, and when I thought of the noble and chivalrous deed he intended performing in order to save the poor creature in that far-off island, I felt that he was indeed worthy of all admiration.

I got down a map, and tried in vain to find the island he mentioned. It was not marked in any of those which I had by me.

Then I found the portmanteau which Shin Shira had left with me, and looked at the little yellow costume, which reminded me so much of my friend.

In lifting it from the bag, something heavy dropped from between the folds. It was the Magic Crystal. I held it in my hand, and wished I could see what Shin Shira was doing at that moment. The thought had no sooner entered my head than I gave an exclamation of surprise.

A mist in which vague figures were moving filled the crystal, and presently I could see distinctly a large crowd of people gathered together. A man and woman stood beneath a canopy--the man I soon perceived was Shin Shira himself, still clothed in the immaculate frock coat and tall hat in which I had last seen him dressed. The woman was a poor, deformed thing and pitifully plain--her gaudy dress and many jewels but helped to point the contrast.

Before them stood a priest, and at the side the King, surrounded by his warriors. It was evidently the celebration of a wedding, and the ceremony was over, for the bridegroom led the bride from under the canopy and knelt with her before the King, who stretched out his hands as though he were giving them his blessing--and then, to my astonishment, a most marvellous thing happened. A blaze of light flashed across the scene, and a beautiful being, who I am convinced was the Fairy Queen herself, floated down from the heights above, accompanied by a crowd of beings nearly as beautiful as herself. She waved her wand three times, and the bride became a beautiful Princess, and Shin Shira grew tall, young and handsome in an instant.

The King and his court gazed in amazement at the scene, and the Princess fell into Shin Shira's arms.

The Fairy waved her wand again, and a bright crown appeared on Shin Shira's head, in which flashed a single stone of great brilliancy. At the same instant the jewel vanished from the yellow turban beside me.

The crystal grew clear as the beautiful scene faded away, and that was the last glimpse I ever had of my little friend.

I often think of him, and I like to imagine, as, indeed, I believe to be the case, that the fairies have restored to him his full powers, and that the bride he had so unselfishly wedded turned out to be the very Princess to whom he had been faithful throughout his long life.

It may be so--if the crystal spoke truly. Who knows?

THE END

End of Project Gutenberg's The Mysterious Shin Shira, by George Edward Farrow